We fell in love, with dust in our lids And the pain of a severed soul We lowered our heads and lifted our face Placed our bodies in celebration On the lips of a mutilated man I carry the bones of a deformed child And my own polluted breath I speak the old mans words In a persuasive eloquence Bless the dust that hides This unlamented head On the crest of fire, our wings are burning How glorious the pain And the ways of God, shriek out of tune All is lost but hope On the crest of fire Our wings are burning To the winds anthem All is lost but hope
Posted on: Tue, 20 Jan 2015 20:04:44 +0000
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